The Quasi-Outdoorsy

Overlooking the simple pleasure of a getaway is far too easy.

The Sweet Partner in Crime treated me to a weekend vacation at Natural Bridge State Park to celebrate my birthday. We had a rough agenda. Sleep in on Friday, get up at our leisure, and head down to Lexington to catch the last day of Keeneland. (I ended up breaking even on the day, thanks to a strong ride by a 10-1 longshot from Devil Eleven Stables bred by an old classmate of mine.)

After good times at the track, we headed down the Mountain Parkway to Slade. We stopped at Miguel's, one of the best little pizza joints you'll ever stumble across and unofficial community center to the "climber's commune" behind the place. We picked up a pizza and a salad there and headed for our cabin in the park.

We had a little mix-up at check-in. We opened up our cabin -- only to find someone else's bags already in the bedroom, newspaper in the kitchen. We called the front desk. I explained to the high-schoolish sounding attendant the situation and (after she asked "Are you serious?" and "Are you sure? Did you just check in?") said that she could get us another cabin. We went back to the lodge and received an apology and new keys from the manager. We ended up, by chance, in the same cabin where we did the Riesling tasting last year.

We settled in, finally able to enjoy the yumminess from Miguel's. Our need for bubbly with pizza is well documented, so we'd brought along a bottle of Royal St. Vincent Brut for the occasion (Usually around $15, found on sale for $10). The bubbly was crisp, dry, and had a little yeasty character. It tasted wonderful after a day in the sun and was simply delicious with the pizza.

The SPinC and I are what you might deem "quasi-outdoorsy." We love being outside, enjoy taking hikes, and think of ourselves as relatively adventurous -- but at the end of the day, rather than pitch a flimsy tent and sleep on roots and rocks, we'd much rather return to our cabin, shower, and cook a good meal in a fully-equipped kitchen. Some of you might consider that cheating, but hey...it's our vacation!

So, what did we bring along on this little jaunt of ours? Well, for general consumption after hikes and the like -- our old standard Redcliffe 2006 Sauvignon Blanc found its way into the fridge. For our evening chocolate consumption, we had a bottle of Benjamin Tawny Port from Australia ($10-13). An inexpensive port, it's got a strong but not overpowering sweetness, lots of flavors of vanilla and fruit, and a delicious finish. At the price, you probably won't find anything that can touch it.

The port also played itself into the meal we cooked on Saturday. We fired up the grill to cook some cardamom-and-balsamic marinated ostrich steaks. The ostrich was free-range raised by a colleague of mine at work (who, sadly, is getting out of the business). I'm a huge fan of the stuff, and if you haven't tried it -- it tastes like steak with the fat content of chicken. We did foil packets of vegetables and some boiled new potatoes. As a side, we diced a big apple and cooked it down with beef broth, the port, some honey, and more balsamic. Unearthly good as a chutneyish topping. Dessert was a couple of grilled pineapple rings, topped with more of the apple and port sauce.

To drink, I rolled the dice and tried a California meritage called Beauzeaux from BV ($9-12). 2005 was the first year of this blend, which has a Zinfandel base and includes juice from seven other grapes. It was nothing fancy -- just a straightforward, somewhat juicy red wine. Honestly, I wouldn't have wanted anything overly complicated with this dinner. There were so many fantastic flavors in the food that I was happy for the wine to stand at attention in a friendly fashion. For that purpose, it worked well enough as a complement. (Although I wouldn't recommend it with the pineapple.)

The rest of the weekend when we weren't eating? Other than a couple of wonderful walks in the woods (and with the slow spring we've had, we were right in the "wildflower wheelhouse" -- just beautiful colors) -- we didn't do much. We sat on the porch and watched the wind blow. We napped. We channel-surfed mindlessly (although the SPinC was fascinated by "Flip this House.") We talked and laughed. We relaxed. We slept like babies.

No email. No Internet. No cell phone service. We noticed that this was the first time in a long time that we weren't doing something. Both of us are really busy in our regular lives, and even when we have time at home -- we're usually doing something social, or catching up on watching shows, or we're checking email, or doing things for work, or running errands, or writing, or something that requires one or the other of us to be focused on something.

This weekend stood in stark contrast. Doing nothing, not plugged in for a couple of days -- not feeling the urge to be connected to people outside the room and the moment -- that peace was a luxury and a gift. No, we weren't completely "off the grid," but it was enough. The weekend gave us both nice recharge and a powerful reminder of just how easy it is to get caught up in the flow of what we find important in the "real world."

When did solitude become hedonistic?

The House Wine Evolution

I was recently asked, "So…Wine Guy…what wines do you usually have just sitting around to drink at home?"

Aside from the sheepish little grin I still get when someone calls me "Wine Guy," the question got me thinking. Honestly, there hasn't been much of anything resembling a "house wine" around the Vineyard for quite awhile. One of the upsides to this wine thing is that there's usually something new around to try. One of the few downsides? It's possible to lose sight of a "favorite" everyday wine.

(If you remember, the general answer to "What's your favorite wine?" is "Whatever's open.")

Digging back through the foggy mists of memory, there was a time not too long ago when there were standard, inexpensive wines purchased pretty consistently 'round here...before the daze of regular wine tastings and regular worship of Most Things Sonoma.

One move and two jobs ago, I usually kept a bottle of Rosemount Estates Shiraz-Cabernet around. When I started courting the Sweet Partner in Crime, I started buying the 1.5 liter bottles instead of the standard size. I revisited Rosemount's 2005 vintage this week for old time's sake. Rosemount's wines usually fall into the "pop tart wine" category, as many of their offerings are pretty indistinguishable from other inexpensive Aussie wines. Unlike most cheap Aussie Shiraz, this wine has a little more depth and character. The nose is very fruity, as you'd expect. The body is full of blackberries and cherries with a nice smoky undertone. The finish is fruity. It's very nice to drink just sitting around, and the smokiness makes it a better than average choice for barbecues and the like. Burgers and chocolate each go hand in hand here. Look to pay $6-9 for a 750ml, but you might as well splurge at around $12 for a big bottle.

Drinking wine with the SPinC opened my eyes to, among other things, three important observations. First, she introduced me to a set of oversized wine glasses she'd break out at the slightest provocation. Learning about proper-sized drinking implements is key to proper tasting. Second, I learned never to leave a full wine glass on a low table if Jessie (the lovable chocolate lab armed with the Furious Tail of Utter Carnage) were nearby. Third, I learned that it's socially acceptable to drink white wine. I almost exclusively drank reds before we started dating. She almost always had a bottle of Meridian Chardonnay on hand when I would stop by. The vintage in the store right now is the 2006. It's still a pretty decent quaff. The nose is melony with some oaky scent. I remember Meridian being much oakier in the past, but they've dialed that flavor back a good deal, leaving a much better balance between the oak and fruit. It's certainly on the oaky side of the "oak vs. butter" competition. It's quite pleasant on the finish, too -- nice fruit and a lingering smoky flavor. At $5-7, it's a great deal.

The closest thing to a "house wine" we currently have is the nearly-everpresent 1.5 liter bottle of Redcliffe 2006 Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge. One of my favorite finds of the last year or so, this is a good solid everyday wine. I wrote about this wine in my recent article in Cincinnati Magazine. It's from New Zealand (where they make my many of my favorite Sauvignon Blancs). The nose is full of grapefruits and peaches. The body is crisp with lots of grapefruit flavor and the finish is nice and crisp, making it both a great sipping wine and a "what do we have that will go with this?" food pairing wine. A 1.5 liter bottle can be had for around $12.

"But wait, Wine Guy," you're saying, "You told us not to drink wine straight out of the fridge! You can't taste the flavors!" Very true...but I learned a neat little trick. Pour a glass of wine chilled to fridge temperature. Put the glass in a microwave for 10 seconds -- no more. Ten seconds in a microwave takes the chill off the wine, leaving it at practically the perfect temperature without harming the flavors.

(As the SPinC aptly pointed out, "Um...couldn't you just leave the wine out on the counter for a few minutes?" Of course you could -- but what's the fun in that?)

So, what wines do you keep around on a regular basis for everyday drinking? Inquiring vines want to know.

Ol' Red Ned & Ol' Rog Fed

About six months ago, the Sweet Partner in Crime wanted to start taking tennis lessons. Both of us had batted a ball around before, but neither of us really knew how to hit groundstrokes properly, serve consistently, or use any strategy other than "try not to shank the ball onto the adjoining court."

Along came The Coach, a colleague of the Sweet Partner's, who responded to her request to "give us a few pointers" by setting up weekly lessons, breaking down our bad habits, and giving us the ability to actually keep a rally going. Coach is always good for the pithy gem. On the first day he worked with us, he came out with this:

"You know what the best shot in tennis is? The one that goes over the net. After that, there's a world of possibility. The wind could blow the ball in. You could hit a bird. Your idiot opponent could hit a volley from the baseline. But if it goes in the net, the point's over. Everything goes from there."

As the weeks passed, I realized that I have the natural ability to play "caveman tennis" (not a good thing), learned that moving on a tennis court is like playing basketball defense instead of trying to fill a hole like a linebacker, discovered that I can hit a decent one-handed topspin backhand, and discovered a competitive intensity in the SPinC I'd never seen before. (Note: Hit to her backhand if you play her. One she lines up her forehand, you're toast.)

Obviously, six months isn't enough to turn me into Roger Federer (although I actually have been mistaken in public for Andre Agassi…), but improving has been fun. So, in honor of the Australian Open championships, the Vine features Australian Shiraz. Shiraz, as I've mentioned before, is Australia's most notable wine export. There are any number of inexpensive wines from Australia -- known down under as "plonk" or "red ned." These "pop tart" wines are often interchangeable, and I wanted to move a bit beyond Little Boomey & Yellowtail. We're approaching the Finals, after all.

These very distinctive Australian creations are, like a weak backhand volley, squarely in the Vine's wheelhouse:

d'Arenberg 2004 "The Love Grass" Shiraz -- Love Grass itself is a weed is native to Africa; introduced in Australia as livestock fodder and to stabilize soil. The name comes from its uncanny ability to spread by attaching its seeds to anything that brushes by the stalk, be it animal, vehicle, human, etc. [Insert your other easy spun double entendres here.] The nose is...honestly, I don't know. The SPinC and I puzzled over this one. Leather? Coffee? Mint? Vanilla? We couldn't quite get a handle on it, but it's distinctive and we liked it. It was also, to steal from Sauvignon Blanc, a little "herbaceous." [Again, insert appropriate "grass" comment of your own.] The flavor is big and full of berries, but the finish is a drop volley of tannin across the back of the tongue. This big, herby Shiraz is great on its own, but it blew our doors off accompanied by a little dark chocolate. $12-14.

Pillar Box Red 2006 -- Pillar Boxes are the British Empire's contribution to the mail system. These metal boxes were the forerunner of the modern public drop mailbox. These were used throughout the British Empire in the 1800's. They initially were any number of colours, but eventually (as typical of the English) standardized to red, hence the wine's name. As for the wine itself, in the US, this would be a "meritage" -- a blend of half shiraz, a good portion of cabernet sauvignon, and a dollop of merlot. The results? Impressive. The nose has layers of interesting aromas: cherries, vanilla, and something like a baking cookie. It's a well-balanced wine with plenty of fruit and a nice amount of tannin. The finish is long, a little fruity, and dry. $10-12.

Shoo Fly 2006 "Aussie Salute" -- Another blend. This one is largely Shiraz, about a quarter Grenache, and a splash of Viognier. The "Australian Salute" is the term for waving one's hand in front of the face to flick away the ubiquitous bushfly. The name of the winery and the decals on the bottle pay homage to this Australian native arthropod. It's said that the Australian accent is a product of nose-breathing to avoid inhaling these buggers. Inhale deeply of this wine, however! The natural perfumes of the Viognier amplify the fruit of the Shiraz, bringing you a powerful combination of plums and coffee. The flavor is fascinating. All three of these grapes are featured in Cotes du Rhone -- and the flavor is, as the SPinC put it, "Like a fruity Cotes-du-Rhone without the funk." The finish is somewhat fruitier than a C-d-R, but with similar tannins, allowing it to flex between earthy foods and chocolates. A very nice find. $11-13.

Hooroo...

Avoiding the White Death -- Snowed-In Wines

One of our great winter amusements is watching the inevitable freak-out at the first sign of anything resembling snowy weather. Every local news scrambles "full team coverage," which amounts to second-string reporters bundled up at interstate rest areas and weathermen standing by snowbanks with rulers, all speaking in earnest, serious tones.

Lines at grocery stores run out the door as everyone stocks up on necessary supplies -- bread, milk, eggs -- in case the weather gets so nasty that we're stranded for nine or ten hours. As one friend of mine put it, "What is it about snow forecasts that gives people a craving for French toast?"

Nine times out of ten, the "storm" ends up being a whimper rather than a bang -- slush and a couple of inches of powder you can hardly make an honest snowball with. Even so, be prepared. Here are a couple of suggestions for getting yourself through those interminable minutes of imprisoning by Mother Nature.

Hardy's "Whiskers Blake" Classic Tawny Port -- In many winter tales, a narrator sits down with a glass of port to warm up on a long, cold night. Port is fortified wine. Fortified wines are fermented normally. A neutral brandy is then added to boost the alcohol content. Ports tend to be sweet, heavy wines -- often over 18% alcohol. There are two major port types. Ruby port is the most common. This is the least expensive, sweetest, and youngest type. Tawny port is aged at least seven years in barrels, is much more mellow and complex, and is usually golden brown in color instead of…well…ruby. Port originated in Portugal (big surprise!), but this one is Australian. While sweet, it's not as tooth-achingly sugary as many ports of similar price. Whiskers has a nice fruitiness along with a tasty caramel flavor. The finish has just a hint of sweetness and cozy warmth. With dark chocolate truffles, this is an absolutely divine winter drink. Curl up with a thick blanket, a huggable dog, and a fire and watch the snow fall. Around $12.

Santa Ema 2004 Maipo Valley Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve-- If you're looking for a "standard" wine to warm you up, I find cabernet sauvignon to be the most satisfying. This Chilean cabernet is wonderful for keeping the winter chill at bay. The nose has thick plum and cherry scents, bordering on zinfandel-strong. The flavor is much more balanced than most zinfandels. The Santa Ema medium bodied with more plums and a little bit of licorice on the finish to go with the pleasant dryness. Also, since it's summertime in Chile while we're suffering through winter, simply imagine you're chasing the sun. $8-10.

Some traditional beverages at this time of year are wine-based. In the name of research and emergency preparedness, I managed to come up with a couple of these recipes that turned out pretty well:

Mike's Wassail

• One fifth dry sherry
• One cup brandy
• 4-5 cups apple cider
• Couple of cinnamon sticks
• Nutmeg, ginger, coriander, allspice -- 1-2 tsp. each
• One orange, cut in half and studded with a dozen cloves
• 1 c. brown sugar

If you were reading the Vine last New Year's, you'll know that we didn't have a great sherry experience. Here's one tasty use. Put all the ingredients into slow cooker, reserving half the orange. Put slow cooker on high for 2-3 hours. Leave on low or warm. (If you don't have a slow cooker, put in a big pot on the stove, put on low, and stir occasionally for a couple of hours.) Serve hot with orange slices and firmly baked apples. If you don't drink it all (ha!), it keeps well.

Mike's Mulled Wine

• One bottle really cheap dry red wine
• 1 c. brown sugar
• 1 tsp. Ground ginger
• 1 tsp. Crystallized ginger
• ½ tsp. Nutmeg, allspice, & cinnamon (or to taste)
• 1 bay leaf
• Orange, cut, half studded with cloves, other half peeled and sectioned
• 1 lemon, juiced and rind cut into thin strips
• ½ c. brandy

To "mull" something is to grind or mix thoroughly. Mulled wine is wine well-mixed with spices and such to create a scrumptious delivery system for winter warmth. To make mulled wine (called Glögg in Swedish or Glühwein in German), combine all ingredients except brandy in a slow cooker. Cook on low for 3 hours. Stir in brandy. Strain and serve hot.

So, let it snow! As long as you've got a few bottles stashed away, that is…

Happy Festivus! See you in 2008!

Wine for Thanksgiving

Hard to believe it's been a year since the last time I looked at wines for the Most Gluttonous Time Of The Year. Lots of calories under the bridge since then. We're again faced with the same dilemma -- big table, many family members with various issues, wildly varied foods, and a need for wines to please everyone.

Good luck.

Actually, there are a number of wines that would work just fine with almost any table. Since thinking basic is a good idea, there's a lot of decent product that will work. A few possibilities follow. And, like last year, if you find yourself cooking -- I still recommend a flask of Maker's Mark stashed inconspicuously behind the potato masher.

Paringa 2004 Sparkling Shiraz -- Full disclosure -- this was the first alcoholic sparkling red I've ever tried. I'd heard sparkling shiraz mentioned as a flexible wine, and I was quite curious, since I couldn't quite put "Shiraz" and "sparkling" together in my mind. If you drink this wine thinking "Shiraz," you're in for a shock. The strong fruit and slight sweetness of Shiraz gets amplified. While the wine was a little bit sweeter than I usually take, it was still very interesting. The nose is crisp, with a little blueberry. The flavor is soft. It's sweet, but there's a little bit of tannin running underneath. The finish is very crisp for a wine this sweet. If you put it with the typical Thanksgiving table -- roast turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and such -- it would really shine. There are enough interesting notes in here to echo almost anything you'll find in the food. If you pick it up at another time of year, have it as a brunch wine. Fruits (we had it with cherries and chocolate covered blueberries) match this wine very well. $10.

Covey Run 2005 Gewürztraminer -- What can I say, I'm still a sucker for wines with umlauts. While Riesling is probably more flexible, if you've got a group that wants something a little different or if you're with a group that doesn't know better, bust out a Gewürz. It'll be fun for people to try to pronounce after a couple of glasses, at the very least. This offering from Washington is a really flavorful wine, starting you with a nose of honey and apples. The body is quite full and fruity, and it's not as peppery as many of its cousins. I generally prefer them with a little more spice, but this will be much more accessible to a larger group. More importantly, it does have enough acidity to stand up to most foods. It will compliment almost anything that you might think to cook, unless you're going to do a beef roast or something along those lines. For $8-9, you'll get a bottle you can use either with dinner or as an aperitif.

Louis Jadot 2006 Beaujolais-Villages -- A quick side note here. I wanted to do a Beaujolais as one of the wines, since that's a classic pairing. I was struck immediately when I checked that section of the aisle at the sheer number of Beaujolais cru that were available. If you remember, those are the ones made in particular towns in the region and are supposed to be the "top of the line." Then I noticed -- every single one of them was from Georges Dubeouf. I shouldn't have a prejudice, since his wines are generally very quaffable -- but with this onslaught of cru, I was skeptical. I followed my instinct and took the one bottle of Beaujolais among the dozen or so that wasn't from dear ol' Georges. I wasn't disappointed. A friendly, nice nose of strawberries and cherries. Those scents are echoed in the body of the wine. The tannins are light, and the acidity's not too strong. A good all around red wine to just straight-up drink or that will work with most anything you'll have on the table. Only $6-7, so you can load up and not break the bank.

Gnarly Head 2005 Old Vine Zinfandel -- "Come on, Mike," a friend of mine said, "You do these wines for big groups and parties, and you do things that will appeal to the middle of the road. But Thanksgiving is a big ass meal, so you need a big ass wine. What would you do?" With a gauntlet like that thrown down, you need a red wine where people will know that they're drinking A Red Wine. Still, you have to have appeal for lots of folks, and it does have to go with what you're serving. One wine raises its hand -- Zinfandel. Specifically, big, cranking California Zin. The Gnarly Head fills the bill perfectly. The very definition of a "fruit bomb," this wine announces its presence with authority. Lots of big plummy scents lead you to a huge fruity body. There's a little tannin and a little oak in there somewhere, and you catch hints of it on the finish -- but it's largely a big wine that would pair with big flavors. Most Thanksgiving tables would be perfect. At close to 15% alcohol, it'll liven up any party. $10.

Enjoy the gorging, enjoy the wine, enjoy the football, and celebrate the family. Whether tied by blood or by love, they're what makes us us. Raise a glass.

Greatest Misses

From a recent conversation:

"You know, Mike -- by nature, you're more or less a cynical bastard. But when you write about wine, you always say such positive things. Have you ever run into a wine you didn't like?"

It's a good question. I mean, I'm usually pretty lucky with the wines I end up reviewing, but there are some I've bumped into that just…well…won't be on my list. I tend to spare you folks from reading about them -- but why not publish a cautionary tale once in awhile?

What follows are some wines I've run into during my explorations that didn't make the cut...

Cline 2006 Viognier -- I'm generally a fan of Cline wine. They're a good midline wine producer. Heck, I used a Cline in the installment where I talked about "wine sniffing." They generally make very decent wine at reasonable prices. I was excited about the Viognier, since the weather is cooling off a bit, and the weight of Viognier works well as we leave the heat. Also, I'm a sucker for a pretty-smelling wine. Unfortunately, things stopped there. The nose was slightly perfumey, like many Viogniers -- but not as strong as I'm used to. The body can only be described as "weak." It was like drinking fruity water, and the finish was the definition of what they call in WineSpeak, "flabby." Much better Viogniers are available.

Domaine Guindon 2005 Muscadet -- A friend of mine recommended a muscadet not long ago, and I wondered why I hadn't made myself at least passingly familiar with the varietal. I bought one at the store, chilled it a bit, gave it a swig, and remembered why I'd not done so. When I first started learning about wine, I picked up a Kevin Zraly wine course book and worked my way through. One of the first stops was "The White Wines of France." In the Loire Valley region, they make wine from the muscadet grape. That's not to be confused with Muscat -- the grape used for any number of sweeter white & dessert wines. This grape yields a somewhat dry wine which allegedly pairs well with shrimp & shellfish. I remember not exactly finding it to my liking. I'd not bought another -- until this one. And I remembered immediately why I didn't much care for it. The nose of this wine smelled alkaline to me, almost metallic. The main taste of the wine is incredibly dry and quickly turns really tart. The finish of the wine left my tongue feeling like a carpet. In fairness, since then I found that muscadet is fabulous with oysters on the half-shell, but unless you've got some salty shellfish on the menu, you might want to look elsewhere.

Australian Riesling in General -- As anyone who knows me will tell you, I love me some Riesling. I enjoy this wine because: (a) It's food friendly. (b) It's affordable. (c) It's generally yummy. I've also read recently that Australia has been "very successful" at growing Riesling. If that's so, I haven't run into many. I've tried a couple -- Lindemans 2004 "Bin 75" Riesling and Rosemount Estates 2005 Riesling. Given, both are from large-scale producers. Both are semi-sweet and crisp, and you'll get some lemon and apple from each, but nothing to write home about. They're both pretty inexpensive, so if you're doing a dinner party and your guests aren't picky, they'll probably all like this. If they are picky, make sure you get some food and other wines in them before cracking this one. Seriously -- if any of you out there in VineLand have some suggestions for Aussie Riesling, please pass them along. I hate to write off an entire country's varietal, after all.

There you have it -- a few of the wines I'd think twice about. Feel free to disagree. If there are wines you expected to be something special (or at least decent) and ended up disappointing, share your stories. Think of it as group therapy.

Manolo Blahnik. Kate Spade. Mad Housewife?

"In marketing I've seen only one strategy that can't miss -- and that is to market to your best customers first, your best prospects second and the rest of the world last."
- John Romero

Marketing fascinates me.

Ever since I took an "Advertising and Society" class my senior year at [redacted], I've looked at advertisements with a more critical eye. I also received the worst grade on any paper in my academic career in that class because I focused too tightly on marketing in my research -- or at least that's the explanation the TA in the class gave.

It's all about appealing to the target demographic. Advertisers get brief chunks of time to make an impression, so message must be tightly targeted. You want to appeal to young men? Use scantily clad women (or perhaps scantily clad men). You want to appeal to older men? Mention a life free from prostate trouble. You want to appeal to middle-aged folks? Get them worried about either paying for children and retirement, or remind them that they can still feel young. And then there's the John Mellencamp-themed Chevy ads. (You know the one: "This is awrrrr counnnntreeeeeee."). They seem to annoy as many people as the Applebee's "Gilligan's Island" spots -- so I'm yet to figure where they're aimed…

So what does this have to do with wine? Women account for 57% of wine sales in the US, and most female consumers of wine drink what they buy almost immediately. According to Leslie Sbrocco, author of "Wine for Women," women "look for the experience" in wine. "We think about who we're with, what we're eating," she said. "Women buy visually, paying attention to packaging. They look for a transition between day and night, work and play."

Wine sellers are quick on the uptake. Interesting labels, odd bottle shapes, funky names for wines -- these are aimed at casual wine drinkers and/or people who tend to consume wines not long after purchase, since those two demographics make up the majority of wine sales. A typical, old-school cursive covered bottle with a proudly emblazoned vintage but no other "obvious" information isn't going to stand out while strolling the aisles of Liquor Direct.

Couple this notion with Sbrocco's thesis -- and you'll get a lot of wines marketed at women for "specific" use in particular environments. Now, I'm not going to claim knowledge of what those environments may be…I'll leave those to you to envision or share in the comments. That said, here are a few wines who clearly weren't marketed towards my gender:

Little Black Dress 2005 Chardonnay -- From their publicity, "Fashioned specifically to capture the pure essence of what a woman wants in a wine, Little Black Dress signifies all that is elegant, confident, sexy and today." Pretty bold statement for an $8 bottle. Is it "sexy and today?" I have no clue, but it's decent. It comes off the hangar with a nose like a buttery chard -- creamy and citrusy. It's medium bodied for a chardonnay, and makes no bones about being Californian. There's plenty of toasty oak in this wine. However, instead of becoming buttery, it's turns more crisp -- an interesting mix of European and American styling. The finish is oaky and somewhat dry. We had this one with some grilled swordfish and yellow rice and it went quite nicely.

Mad Housewife 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon -- "This is your time. Time to enjoy a moment to yourself. A moment without the madness." Perhaps this is a reworking of the Stones' "Mother's Little Helper," but hey -- whatever gets you through. Actually, this is a very decent Cabernet. It's nothing spectacular, but very approachable. The Mad Housewife has a fragrant nose of currants and blackberries. There's a nice fruity taste with just an edge of tannin. Finish is slightly dry. The Sweet Partner in Crime said that she found it "Zin-ish, but not quite that strong a flavor." It's a $10 bottle, which is probably about right for the quality.

Bitch 2005 Grenache -- I remember the first time I saw this wine. I was wandering down the Australian wine aisle when I spotted this bright pink label with "Bitch" delicately scripted. I had a hard time running this wine down to review -- as it tends to sell pretty briskly, for reasons I would need a second "X" chromosome to properly understand. When did "bitch" become a term of endearment? I used that word to describe that Advertising and Society TA for a decade. That all changed when TA-Bitch became the Sweet Partner in Crime ten years later, but that's a story for another day.

That said, this is a much fruitier, heavier wine than I expected from a straight Grenache. Most Grenaches tend to be on the light side, but this one refuses to take a back seat. (Apparently, Grenache is also a bitch to grow…) Blindfolded, I'd think might be a more manly zinfandel, but Bitch brings the strength. At 15% alcohol -- this is not a wine to be trifled with. The nose is full of brandy-covered plums. There's some licorice to go with the fruit when you taste, and the finish is surprisingly dry. Nice tannin. $11-12.

Of course, since I'm male, you can probably discount most of what I say above. I'll do a followup column on manly wines soon. Suggestions are welcome…

Thinking Inside the Box

A few months ago, longtime Vine reader and erstwhile neighbor Christine asked, "So, when are you going to do a column on box wines." I mentioned to her that planned to do one for April Fool's.

"No, seriously," she said with an edge in her voice that gave me goosebumps. This is, after all, a woman who hiked the state of Vermont in five weeks, and offhandedly asks questions like, "Hey, are you guys interested in a triathlon?"

She was correct, of course. My experience with box wines had been unpleasant for the most part, but it made sense for me to give a take. After all, it is the least expensive wine delivery system.

So, how do they get the wine in there? The wine's not really in the box, of course. There's an aluminum or plastic pouch inside the box, tapped with a small spout of some kind. These containers are officially called "casks," although they're known in Australia as "goons."

Box wine tends to be of lesser quality than bottled wine -- but there are advantages. Once you open a bottle of wine, you're committed. The wine starts to oxidize almost immediately, and your wine will lose quality rapidly. Box wine never touches air until it hits the glass, so it can keep consistent quality until needed (although you can't age box wine). One of our friends termed box wine "Homer Simpson wine -- you push a button, and there it is!"

They hold up to five liters of wine, but the most common size we'll see is three liters. Three liters is equivalent to four regular-sized bottles. And there's the rub. I drink a lot of wine, obviously, but having three liters of a generally-not-great wine lying around for just myself and the Sweet Partner in Crime isn't what I'm looking for. Generally, you'd get these containers for larger gatherings -- or if someone is distracted, gone for work, or just lame enough to need a wine that will last for a month.

Still, the obvious reason was to par-tay. Thus, the First Annual Labor Day Box Wine Extravaganza was born. Christine and I each got two boxes of wine, and we went from there. The cast of characters:

• The Sweet Partner in Crime and I.
• Christine and her handyman husband Jeff.
• Katherine, a mutual friend.
• Marlene & Steve, our Francophile neighbors.

We did our best to take notes on our tastings, but by the end of the evening, predictably, we lost track of who said what. The quotes tell the stories well enough.

The wines:

• Angel Juice 2005 Pinot Grigio
• Banrock Station 2006 Chardonnay
• Black Box 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon
• Black Box 2006 Shiraz

(Christine and I bought our wines separately, so we ran with what we had.)

First up, the Angel Juice.

• "It's lawnmower wine. You know, for a hot day in the yard." (Which led to: "What? You mean you'd put it in the lawnmower?")
• "It'll drink, but there's not much body."
• "It's so light -- it's not really much of a wine."
• "It's like Crystal Light -- the Wine of the Astronauts!"
• "Kinda bitter -- like the seeds are crushed up in it."
• "It says 'honeysuckle and citrus' -- I don't get either. More lemon rind than lemon!"
• "It quenches your thirst -- but I won't say much beyond that."
• "One word: Wimpy."

We did find that it went reasonably well with food. Pesto paired well for some reason.

Then came the Banrock Station. Honestly, we all wished we'd just stayed on the train…

• "It smells like honey wine or cider."
• "It's sour. There's no oak -- none. It's just bad, bad, bad."
• "It's like a golden shower for your mouth."
• "I wouldn't cook with it."
• "It tastes like battery acid."
• "It's a cut above Mad Dog."
• "I'd give it to a homeless guy so he could get a change of pace."

Truly an awful wine -- unanimously one of the worst we'd had collectively. More optimistically, the suggestion was made: "Maybe you could make a spritzer out of it." (You couldn't.) Christine made the best suggestion: "Well, at least you could recycle the box…"

With palates collectively in shock, we were worried as we edged towards the reds. The Black Box wines -- we were dubious -- but we went forward. We were too invested to turn back:

• "This isn't bad!"
• "It's not complicated -- but it's decent." (Surprised nods all around.)
• "It's versatile. This is good wine for a party."
• "It's inoffensive -- it would go with a lot of things. There's enough fruit and tannin to be interesting."
• "It passes the cube test. If it's really hot, you can put ice in it and it's still drinkable."

Black Box's Shiraz followed suit:

• "It's nondescript, but you really could drink it with anything."
• "It's a really simple wine."
• "Hey! This goes pretty well with chocolate!"
• "It's good."
• "It's yummy -- has a little bite to it, unlike that chardonnay, which just bites."
• "It's far too easy to dispense!"

We made a dent in all four. The Cabernet had the least left by morning. The chardonnay was the cheapest ($16), while the shiraz was the most expensive ($24). Since there are clear levels of quality, if you're willing to drop $20 or more on a box, you'll probably end up OK.

One last note on the Banrock: We did follow Christine's recommendation:

UPDATE: While this has little to do with box wine, the Sweet Partner and I enjoyed some "regular" wine last night at Red, a restaurant in Cincinnati's Hyde Park district. Two thumbs up from us. The food was excellent (we had a filet and halibut, along with some of the best bourbon bread pudding outside of Lexington), the service was on par with the food, and the atmosphere was classy without being stuffy. Their website is fun, too -- allowing you to see the presentation of all their entrees. Give it a go for a special occasion.

The Thunder Down Under

My initial experience with Australian libations came during my first semester in college. I was a semi-clueless freshman, hanging out with some of my soon-to-be fraternity brothers. One of them handed me something that looked like a can of 10w/30.

"Foster's. Australian for beer." (Any self-respecting Ozzie will clip you for repeating that phrase. Victoria Bitter is Australian for beer.)

I didn't bump into any other Australian beverages until eight or nine years later, when I learned the then-well-kept secret: Australia makes some pretty good wine.

Set the Wayback Machine for the late 18^th Century. Not long after England claimed Australia in 1770 and began using it as a penal colony, Australians started producing wine. The first large scale production came about around the turn of the century, and the first bottles were available for export in the 1820s. Wine production in Australia roughly mirrored that of the United States. Of course, there was one major difference:

Prohibition.

While America made fortunes for the mob, bootleggers, and makers of bathtub gin, the Australians continued to refine their winemaking skills. By the time American winemaking got back on its feet in the 1970s, the Australians were pumping out large quantities for sale all over Europe. Australian wine was so popular and planted so widely that, in the late 1980's, the Australian government ordered thousands of acres of vines pulled to combat a glut of grapes. Then someone had a bright idea -- sell wine in America.

The strategy paid off handsomely. In 1990, Australia exported about 600,000 cases of wine to the U.S. Last year, the US imported over 25 million. China recently started importing Australian wine and quickly became the world's fastest growing market. Australia is best known for Shiraz (remember – it’s Syrah) and Chardonnay, although any number of other grapes flourished in recent years.

Australia remains a major force in the inexpensive wine world. I heard someone once refer to inexpensive label Australian wines referred to as "pop tart wines" -- since, in his opinion, they tasted identical, much that only a connoisseur can tell strawberry Pop Tarts from blueberry. While largely true, I find many of those wines are quite decent as "sluggables." (I also have a weakness for Pop Tarts.)

Here's some Down Under tipple for you:

Penfolds 2004 Thomas Hyland Shiraz -- Penfolds, arguably the most famous Australian label, has the distinction of making the Shiraz which started both the Sweet Partner in Crime and I down the Aussie wine road. My initiation was in graduate school while half-cocked at a party thrown by an Ozzie whose name escapes me. The SPinC -- also in graduate school, supplementing her meagre stipend by working at Outback. Penfolds is a solid, dependable Shiraz. The Thomas Hyland has a nice upfront nose of dark berries. The flavor is very pleasant and plummy. The finish is fruity, has a good amount of peppery taste, and lasts a long time. We had this with some kabobs with sundried tomato sausage, peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, and pineapple. Deeelishous. $13-15.

Little Penguin 2006 Chardonnay -- The Little Penguin (like Rosemount, Yellow Tail, Four Emus, etc.) is one of the aforementioned "pop tart wines." I find most inexpensive chards pretty bland or, if Californian, oaky as a burnt tree. Little Penguin actually distinguishes itself from the pack. I bought a bottle on a whim. I needed a sluggable white to go with angel hair pasta and shrimp. I was pleasantly surprised. The nose is nothing too out of the ordinary -- typical chardonnay scents of pears and such. However, the first taste was spicy, almost like cloves, dissolving to a nice fruity middle. The finish was surprisingly crisp. It's nothing too complicated -- but for $4-5 a bottle, this wine's a great value. Pastas, seafood, chicken -- any of your typical chardonnay pairings would work.

Villa Maria 2005 Private Bin Hawkes Bay Unoaked Chardonnay -- I'll stray just east of Australia because I need to shoot praise towards New Zealand. New Zealand's wine production is growing rapidly and is positioned in a slightly more expensive price range than their neighbor. New Zealand does exceptionally interesting, tasty Sauvignon Blanc. Other varietals, like this Chardonnay, are becoming more popular. One characteristic of New Zealand wines is a pungent, complex nose. No exception with the Villa Maria. There's a strong scent of ripe bananas and flowers. It's a little acidic, but not minerally like the Chablis after which it's styled. Instead, there’s more of a creamy banana flavor. (The SPinC didn't get bananas at all when we tried it -- she got vanilla.) The finish is a little sharp and dry. You'll find this at around $10. The Villa Maria website suggests "A crisp salad of celery and green beans with potatoes, lemon and olives." Sounds like a winner to me.

Enjoy the fruits of the Southern Hemisphere Remember, in the words of Charles Schultz: “Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia.”

"Shall I unscrew it for you?"

One of my favorite sitcoms of all time is Night Court. In one memorable episode, Dan Fielding, the Lothario of all prosecutors (played brilliantly by John Larroquette), finally gets his chance to bed his nemesis, defense attorney Christine Sullivan. Always the…ahem…gentleman, Dan takes Christine out for dinner, orders some bubbly, and the maître d' delivers a classic line:

"Chateau Libido isn't one of our usual selections. Shall I unscrew it for you?"

Screwcaps and cheap wine have a long association. For years, only wines of last resort had screwtops instead of corks. These wines generally could be found comfortably nestled in paper bags in the hands of…well…people who regularly drink wines of last resort. For many years, screwcaps had this unfortunate association.

Oxygen is generally the #1 enemy of wine. If you've ever had the misfortune to drink from a bottle with a deteriorated cork, you know that vinegar taste well. In addition, there's a chemical compound called TCA that can form in a cork when moisture, chlorine, and mold interact. This causes a wine to taste like damp cardboard. When a wine takes on this flavor, it’s said to be “corked” – an affliction affecting about one bottle per case of imported wine, on average.

Enter the "Stelvin closure." Stelvins were invented in the 1950's in France. The Stelvin is a screwtop designed specifically for use with wine bottles. Stelvins are two-piece caps that create a virtually airtight seal, thus no "corked" wine or rotting closures. They're also much more environmentally friendly, since no trees are damaged in the making of these closures. In the late 90's, Australia became the first country to use screwtops widely. Some California winemakers (most notably Bonny Doon) followed suit in the early 2000's. Some vintners now put $100+ wine in screw top bottles.

The Stelvin's popularity continues to spread. About 10 percent of all wine bottled worldwide now are sealed with screwtops. Two issues prevent screwtops from becoming more widespread. First, aging. No one knows how well wine will age in a screwtop bottle. Second, romance. Many feel there's something magical to that "pop" of a freshly drawn cork.

Since we're not worried about aging and you can open wines in another room -- I say ease of use wins out. Worse to be caught corkscrewless than seem cheap. Also, since you can twist the top back on and the seal is airtight, the wine maintains taste for a longer period of time. So, try a couple of these and twist to your heart's content:

Hogue 2005 Washington State Pinot Grigio -- Hogue was one of the first large-scale U.S. winemakers to switch to Stelvins. They've always done decent, inexpensive wine -- but they grabbed a larger market share after making the twist switch. As for the wine itself, the nose is light with peach and apple scents. The body is full for a pinot grigio. It's a little acidic, but with an interesting creaminess. The finish is of decent length with a refreshing end. You could consider serving this with slightly heavier food than you might an ordinary pinot grigio. Fettucini alfredo, grilled shrimp, etc… $8-10.

Twin Wells 2004 Terra Australis Reserve Shiraz: "So a Frenchman goes to Australia…" No, I don't know a punchline, and I have no idea if the winemaker is really a French expat, but this wine is as close to Europe as I've had from Australia. Since the Ozzies started this trend on a large scale, we need a wine from Down Under as an appropriate representative. The Sweet Partner in Crime gave me this wine as a blind test, and I thought I was sniffing a Cotes-du-Rhone. The nose was a little too rich and fruity for a C-d-R, but the "Old World Funk" seemed to be there. The flavor is definitely Australian Shiraz: big, dark fruits -- but with an earthier body than most. The finish is long, a little tannic, and a little tart. The price is what blew me away on this one. Found this at Trader Joe's for $7. Serve with your typical shiraz foods: grilled meats, roasted chicken, lamb, steak, and so on.

Verget du Sud 2006 Rosé de Syrah -- Not even the stodgy French could resist the temptation of the Stelvin. Winemaker Jean-Marie Guffens is a traveler. He wanders France looking for small growers producing good grapes -- but doesn't limit himself to the grapes of a particular region. His wines are exclusively (to my knowledge) capped with Stelvins. This rosé is made from southern Rhone Valley Syrah. This is a "pretty smelling" rosé -- lots of flowers and pineapple. It's very nicely balanced to taste -- the fruit isn't overcome by any acidic "bite." The finish does turn tart and a little dry. The combination of acidity and full (for rosé) body would make this a winner with almost any food short of heavy beef and sauces. With anything shellfish related, especially a fish stew or paella, it brings down the house. $9-12.

Any of these selections would be superior to D.A. Fielding’s choice of sparkling wine. But few men have walked the earth armed with a better coup de grace than Dan’s clincher:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways....I know 52 of them."

Court adjourned!

Wine School! (Lesson #7 -- Syrah/Shiraz)

Syrah -- the juicy grape.

Our final red class focuses on Syrah. (Or Shiraz, if you prefer -- same grape.) Of the three reds, syrahs are biggest and fruitiest. Now, I use "biggest" to mean the fullest body -- not necessarily the strongest flavor. Think of Chardonnays. The Kendall-Jackson had the fullest body, but the Alamos had the strongest flavor.

I had a misconception about Syrah. I was under the impression that the French cultivated Syrah, and after transport to Australia, gained its more common name, Shiraz. Nope. The French actually changed the name. The grape's name comes from the city of Shiraz in Southern Iran, the possible origin of winemaking over 7,000 years ago.

A French crusader brought the vines back to Europe and withdrew to his home for the remainder of his life to cultivate it -- thus earning the wine made from French Syrah its first appellation -- "Hermitage." In the 1830's, the grape was brought to Australia, where it regained its original name and eventually became the most-planted grape Down Under. American growers tend to name their wine depending on which style it most resembles. "New World" styles are usually called "Shiraz."

Syrah creates wines that tend to be fruity (and I mean dark fruit -- like blackberries and plums) and peppery. Syrah is the backbone grape (along with Grenache) of many wines in the Rhone region of France. The wine usually tastes "heavier" and goes well with big foods. Oh, and chocolate! For my money -- I personally think that the flavors of syrah complement chocolate better than any other varietal.

Syrah is considerably less tannic than Cabernet Sauvignon, and so doesn't generally age as well. Some vintages age better than others, but, generally, Syrah really comes into its own after about 3-4 years.

During a springtime of craziness, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I ended up with a free weekend that turned out to be unseasonably cool. Not willing to waste a perfect opportunity, we decided to cook up a few different pairings for the syrah. Our lineup was:

Estancia 2003 Central Coast Syrah -- $9-11
E. Guigal 2004 Cotes du Rhone -- $11-13
Penfold's 2003 Koonunga Hill Shiraz -- $9-11

We cracked the Estancia first and gave it a swirl. Smelled like smoke and alcohol, tasted like spiked grape juice. Much like the cabernet, decanting was necessary. However, once you open a syrah, you're committed. Even if you vacuum-seal a bottle, the big fruit taste fades rapidly, so plan to finish within 2-3 days, tops.

After about 20 minutes, we tried again. First up, the Estancia. After decanting, the smoky scent was still there, but much more gently. Instead, a strong dark berry aroma took center stage. The full body of this wine was loaded with big flavors of blueberry. The finish was fruity and was the least dry of the three. The finish is best described as "smoked blueberries."

Moving on to the Guigal. Cotes-du-Rhone is typically a blend of Syrah and Grenache. These are the "generic" wines of the Rhone region -- usually because their grapes are from all over the area, not because they're inferior wines. I find them to be good "starter" wines if you want to start tasting French wines. They don't have as much of the "Old World Funk" I mentioned before.

The Guigal's nose was light, with some berries and flowers. Since it's a blend, the Grenache made the wine lighter than a straight syrah. The taste was less fruity as well -- instead yielding more of an earthy flavor. The finish was somewhat dry, "leathery," and slightly chalky. While the description may not sound appealing, Cotes-du-Rhone really shows its colors when matched with food, like many European wines. And it certainly was drinkable on its own.

Finally, the Penfold's. This Australian number also had a fruity nose, but with a leather and vanilla scent backing it up. The body was second in line here, with a smoky flavor and a taste like figs or prunes -- not sweet fruits as with many Syrahs. The finish was full of vanilla and pepper.

We tried different recipes on three consecutive nights. With a warm, spicy lentil dish, the big winner (not surprisingly) was the Guigal. Earth goes with earth, and Cotes-du-Rhone is tailor-made to pair with root vegetables and legumes.

We made a slow-cooker dish called tzimmes the next night. Tzimmes is a Jewish casserole, made by slow-braising a roast with vegetables and fruit, seasoned with honey and cinnamon. So, while meaty and earthy, there's a lot of sweetness. The Estancia was the best pairing here. If it had been a simple pot roast, I'd guess the Guigal would have been the call.

Our final meal was mustard-coated lamb with rosemary-garlic potatoes. The Estancia is not recommended here. The other two wines ran neck and neck, but the Penfold's took the title by a nose. The peppery flavor of this wine meshed really well with the mustard and the richness of the meat.

We discovered with chocolate that the Guigal isn't built to handle dessert. The chalkiness comes out, but not much else. The Estancia really brings out the cacao flavor -- the deep bittersweetness of the bean, almost like coffee. The Penfold's was fascinating. The flavors went through transformations, with varying, shifting intensities of fruit, tartness, and bitterness. We felt as if we were tasting the component flavors individually.

One last note -- you may see a varietal called "Petit Sirah." While a distant cousin, it's a very different grape than Syrah -- one that yields wines that are even bigger and much more tannic.

One lesson remains. The final white -- Riesling.

Class dismissed.

'Tis the Season -- Party Wines

Party Season: the stretch from Thanksgiving to New Year's. Most folks' dance cards fill up early with social engagements -- dinners with groups of friends, notorious office parties, and general gatherings for people to mingle, drink, and be merry. Custom demands you "bring something to the party," and wine's always a good choice. All you need is a corkscrew and a sound system -- you've got yourself an official shindig.

We find ourselves in the situation with which we started this venture -- ambling the aisles of your local liquor store trying to sort out appropriate choices. This dilemma is somewhat akin to Thanksgiving: You need something flexible enough to satisfy a group without looking cheap or clueless.

With some help from the Sweet Partner in Crime (who happens to be a criminologist in real life) -- we subdivided the party circuit into two major categories: informal gatherings for grazing and drinking and more "formal," and I use that term very loosely, dinner parties. While there are lots of choices (and feel free to add your own in the comments section) -- I offer up a red and a white for each type to get you started. First off -- the "gather and graze:"

These events are your basic "everyone shows up at someone's house, munch on appetizers, and carry on various degrees of conversation/deviltry" deals. There's usually at least one table where people pile liquor and wine for general consumption. If this is where you're going, look here:

Rosemount Estates 2005 Shiraz -- About as safe a decent wine as you can get. Rosemount is one of the more popular Australian bargain-line wines. I was a big fan of the Rosemount blends until they jacked up the price across the board. The Shiraz, however, remains a favorite of mine for sluggable red. Straightforward, uncomplicated -- this is a perfect red for walking around, chatting people up, and drinking a few glasses to get a warm glow. While the Rosemount's nose is plummy with a little leather scent, the best feature is the taste. Rosemount is a very fruity Shiraz with straightforward dark berry flavors. There's not a lot of tannin here, so it doesn't finish very dry -- just fruit and a little bit of pepper. Rosemount Shiraz is the very definition of "easy quaffer." If you're looking for a "real" syrah/shiraz, you're probably better off looking elsewhere. But for our purposes -- unveil, uncork, and go to town…you're not going to do much better for $6 a bottle. Heck, just drop the pretense and get the under $10 1.5 liter bottle. We're all friends here.

Snoqualmie Vineyards 2004 Chenin Blanc -- Now, as for a white... Again, we need something everyone can drink -- not too sweet, not too dry, enough complexity for corkheads and enough ease for less serious drinkers. What to do? My first instinct would be Riesling, predictably -- but I've done a lot of those recently. Chardonnay...well, many inexpensive chards are either going to be overly oaky or way too dry for mass consumption. Sauvignon Blanc? Too tart. Viognier? A lot of people think they're too perfumey and some of my friends have had really negative reactions to viognier for some reason. I settled on Chenin Blanc. Chenin Blanc gets a bad rap. Much like "Burgundy" and "Chablis" --"chenin blanc" evokes thoughts of cheap wine shoplifted by high school kids tired of Boone's Farm. While the Chenin Blanc grape has been used in great quantity in jug wine, in the hands of someone who knows what they're doing -- it becomes a refreshing, accessible white. The Snoqualmie is an example. This Washington-produced white has a pronounced fruit nose, but it's not as citrusy as a sauvignon. The taste starts a little sweet, but becomes a nice light balance of lemon and pear. There's a little acidic zing on the finish which turns fruity and crisp. It's an ideal "stand around and graze on munchies" wine -- as this would go really well with most hard cheeses and other such finger food. You're looking at $6-7 for a bottle.

Our other category, the loosely defined "dinner party," will have at least one evening's component where you're actually going to use a set of silverware, a napkin, and sit around a table. Since you'll generally have multiple courses, you can be a little more specific in your wine choices. Just ask your host or hostess what you're having, and plan accordingly:

Burgans 2004 Albariño -- This wine looks out of place in the Spanish section with its Celtic script and label graphic. As most of you know, wine isn't exactly Ireland's national spirit. (I may ask The Wizard of Covington to guest-write a column on the joys of Clontarf down the road, however.) What's Ireland have to do with Spain? Centuries ago, some of the first settlements in the Iberian Peninsula were Celtic -- especially in this wine's region of Spain. As a nod to their northern neighbors, Burgans styled the bottle with Celtic script. Both bottle and cork are adorned with a rune. As you may remember from the entry a couple of months ago, Albariño is one of Spain's most precious white grapes. Albariños tend to be a little more expensive, but a couple fall into Vine range. An Albariño is very different from most whites. It's not quite as perfumey as a viognier, and usually has a little sweetness, but not as much as a Riesling. These wines are usually exceptionally well-balanced. Here, the Burgans has a wonderful nose of fresh flowers and mangoes. This is a medium bodied wine, and the sweetness only shows up at the very beginning with a full taste of ripe green apple. The finish is a little tart, a little sweet, and quite nice. This would be a very flexible food wine, so you'll be in business. I had this with penne pasta with potatoes, zucchini, and tomatoes and the pairing worked nicely. I've also heard that smoked salmon would go wonderfully well if you're pairing up with an appetizer. This is a very "hot" varietal right now -- so impress your friends with this bottle --$10-12.

Windmill Vineyards 2005 Old Vine Zinfandel -- Michael-David Winery in Lodi, California has cranked out some really incredible wine over the last few years. Their signature wine, 7 Deadly Zins, is a regular gold medal winner -- and another favorite of mine. Unfortunately, it's slightly out of our price range. However, as I mentioned in an earlier entry -- one can find really good value by looking for "second label" wines by such growers. The Windmill is a perfect example. Just so you know, "Old Vine" is WineSpeak for…well…there's not really an agreed upon definition, other than that the vines are generally at least 30-40 years old. If a vine can produce consistently and with quality for that long, it's planted in the right place -- and if it ain't broke, don't fix it. The Windmill is a blend of old vine fruit from several of Michael-David's neighboring wineries. These choices produce a powerful zin with a big nose of blackberries and wood smoke. The taste is downright luscious -- all sorts of big cherry and vanilla flavors balance out the rich tannins. The finish is lingering, with dark chocolate and cooling mint. I went to undergrad down Durham, North Carolina way -- and it's hard to be there for any length of time without picking up a fondness for barbecue (and for you Northeastern readers, that's a noun, not a verb). This straightforward zinfandel would be a great pairing with some properly prepared North Carolina style barbecue -- or just about anything else with smoky, grilled flavors. Since you'll probably be having some heavier food this time of year, comfort food will work well. For dessert, of course, chocolate would work swimmingly. You're looking at $9-11 for this one.

Enjoy your season of socialization! And until next time…throw your hands in the air, and wave them like there are no conceivable consequences.

Hallow'ine

I never imagined this would be a difficult entry.

A Hallow'een-themed wine column...easy, right? I figured there would be any number of selections lending themselves to the cause. A quick trip down the beer aisle would keep me in business for weeks if I were writing about hops instead of grapes -- from the Rogue Dead Guy Ale; to Duvel from Belgium (that's "Devil," in case you were wondering); to Hobgoblin IPA; to the countless pumpkin flavored beers lining the aisles this time of year.

Wines, for the most part, held themselves back from this lean towards the lurid, although I did see a display of zinfandels in a coffin at one store. Personally, I find wine much more closely linked to this time of year -- as the weather turns cold, the winds begin to blow, and the air itself seems to crackle with a certain energy. Wine's depth and evolutions in flavor fit autumn well for me. Wine warms us against the cold, and mirrors the season's changes outside.

Plus, since it's Hallow'een, it kinda looks like blood.

That said, here are a couple of wines for the week. Just don't hand these out on Beggar's Night. (Unless I'm visiting, of course.)

Schmitt Sohne 2005 Zeller Schwarze Katz -- No Hallow'een would be complete without a black cat, and this German entry is generally welcome to cross one's path. "Schwarze Katz" is the German translation for the traditional Hallow'een feline -- and is also the name of this wine's vineyard, which is near the village of Zell. This wine is produced from Riesling grapes --and falls in the "basic" category of German wines. That said, if you want the experience of bobbing for apples without getting your face wet, this is a good bet. The nose is lightly perfumed with scents of those apples. The taste is light and crisp, with more of that slightly sweet, slightly tart apple taste -- like a Honeycrisp. The finish is quite long. The fruit flavor holds on for a good portion of the dark evening. This would be excellent as either an inexpensive aperitif or dessert wine. You could also pair it with lighter style foods. With the apple taste in mind, I paired it with some brined pork chops and sweet potatoes, and it worked wonderfully. At $6-9, it's a solid buy -- and I don't think you'll have bad luck.

Yarraman "Hell Raiser" 2004 Cabernet-Merlot -- This Australian number is unrelated to the Clive Barker horror story or Pinhead, but, instead from a horse boarded on the winery's grounds who saw great sport in kicking down his gate and committing various other acts of mischief. This wine was initially known as "The Bolter" -- but I imagine they wanted nomenclature that would be a little more universal to Americans not on the plains or in the Bluegrass. While I'm not driven to attack fences after tasting this wine, I do think that it's very decent for a chilly evening of jack-o-lantern carving. Hell Raiser is 50% cabernet sauvignon and 50% merlot, but I believe the latter grape takes the lead in the taste of this wine. This wine smells more like a merlot to me, with plenty of blackberry -- although there's an interesting minty scent as well. The cabernet becomes evident after you taste. The strong dark berry and plum nature of the merlot gets balanced with the cabernet tannins especially evident on the finish, which is long and dry -- with a flavorful dark chocolate aftertaste. Try this wine with dark chocolate -- it's an absolute killer. You could also put this with some sharp cheddar cheese and crackers to get your trick or treating started right. And for $9-10, open this well before the costumed children arrive and you'll be in a mood to handle whatever comes to your door.

Ravenswood 2003 Vintner's Blend Cabernet Sauvignon -- with apologies to The Bard of Baltimore, Edgar Allen Poe, who set an appropriately macabre mood like no one else…

Once upon a website able, while I pondered at my table,
On a wine to serve my guests as they wandered 'bout my floor.
While I thought, my brain a rustle, all amidst my friends' loud bustle
Something not to break the bank, and something 'twouldn't be a chore
"'Tis a simple wine I need, something folks would not abhore."
Only this, and nothing more.

Fortune smiled upon my trouble, so as not to burst my bubble,
A little something I'd picked up upon my last trip to the store.
"A red!" I said, "A cabernet -- that will surely pave the way
"Into this party so as to stop November's grip upon our corps
"To now relax, to have with cheese, and appetizers more and more."
Only this and nothing more.

For I had wandered down the aisle marked California, with my smile
Emerged successful with a bottle few themselves would dare deplore.
From Ravenswood, this wine it came; and "Vintner's Blend" upon its name
Two thousand three the date upon removal from its barrel's store.
While gold it's not, no problems I would have now mining deep its ore.
So then I did perchance to pour.

Its nose was big, not unlike che